That was all; and then the shadow of Wilbur loomed above them.
"What's this? Do you know each other? It isn't possible! Pierre, are you playing a game with me?"
But under the glance of Pierre he fell back a step, and reached for the gun which was not there. They were alone once more.
"Mary—Mary Brown!"
"Pierre!"
"But you are dead!"
"No, no! But you—Pierre"
"It was a miracle—the cross—that saved me."
"Where can we go?"
"Outside."
"Pierre."
"Yes."
"Hold my arm close—so I'll know it isn't just dreaming. And go quickly!"
"They are staring at us—the fools—as if they were trying to understand."
"We'll be followed?"
"Never."
"Do you need a wrap?"
"No."
"But it is cold outside, and your shoulders are bare."
"Then take that cloak. But quickly, Pierre, before we're followed."
He drew it about her; he led her through the door; it clicked shut; they were alone with the sweet, frosty air about them. She tore away the mask,
